


Some apples are sweet / Some apples are sour

by Ottermidnight



Category: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - All Media Types
Genre: Apples, M/M, Metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottermidnight/pseuds/Ottermidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where did you get it from?" Jim asked with a pointed look at the fruit in his hand.<br/>"From a comrade." Bill answered half-heartedly and shifted his eyes back on the newspaper he was reading before.<br/>"They're no good." Said Jim. His voice was flat and cold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some apples are sweet / Some apples are sour

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is actually the second version.  
> I edited it but I don't want to delete the first version because I got two kudos from my readers.  
> I appreciate every kudo dearly.
> 
>  
> 
> In case, you want to read the first version with the same title: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5841133

Bill was reading the Sunday paper in his favourite armchair when Jim came into his home with a brown paper bag in his hand.

"It looks like someone had done some shopping. Did you get any milk? I finished the last quarter this morning." Bill tore his eyes from the newspaper to look at Jim. He found a little smile on a pair of familiar lips so he could not help but smile back at Jim with a bigger one.

"No, I did not buy any milk." Answered Jim.

"Never mind. I'm sure I can fetch a bottle or two tomorrow." Bill pouted at the answer he heard. Markets and supermarkets were not places he would not like to go if there was not any important matter. On the other hand, getting milk was necessary and unappealing to him at the same time.

Jim walked to the kitchen and put the brown paper bag on the oblong wooden dining table.

"So what is in the bag?" Bill asked Jim loud enough so his question could be heard from the living room he was sitting in. He was half curious and half lazy to get up from the comfortable spot to see what was in that paper bag with his own eyes. Of course, Jim would answer him anyway if he just asked. After all, today was his day off and he had no intention to leave his favourite armchair.

"Just apples."

"I'm going to put them in the fruit bowl for you."

"I already have some apples in the fruit bowl. You can just leave your apples in the bag on the court." Bill went back to the newspaper after he finished his sentences, ignoring the noises Jim were making from the kitchen.

It was not long before the house sunk into complete silence like Bill was alone again. Suddenly, the air grew heavier, filling with the sound of footsteps. Jim walked to the living room and stopped in front of Bill.

"Bill, these apples..." Jim began and paused. He waited patiently until Bill looked up from the newspaper.  
  
"Yes, Jim?" Finally, he got full attention from Bill.

"Where did you get it from?" Jim asked with a pointed look at the fruit in his hand.

"From a comrade." Bill answered half-heartedly and shifted his eyes back on the newspaper he was reading before.

"They're no good." Said Jim. His voice was flat and cold.

"How can you tell it's not good? You haven't tasted it yet." Bill spoke without looking away from lines of inky letters. He sounded like he was annoyed with this conversation.

"Some are already rotten with mold! You didn't see it?" Said Jim. His voice sounded irate and his tone was heated.

"Eating this kind of apples will kill you." Jim warned.  
  
"I thought it was a good apple. I even wanted to share it with you." Sighed Bill. He looked almost sorrowful.  
  
"There are many kinds of apples. Some apples are sweet. Some apples are sour. But there is only one kind of the good apple and the one you got here is not that kind of apples."  
  
"You're going to throw all of them away?"  
  
"I've to get rid of this apple. I don't want you to eat it." Jim turned his heels and about to walk to the kitchen to throw all rotten green apples into the bin then he heard Bill trying to say something to him.  
  
"What a pity, Jim."  
  
"I brought some new apples. You won't be short of the supplies." Bill pushed himself from his armchair and wrapped his arms around the other man body from behind. Jim was caught off guard and he froze. He could feel Bill's lukewarm breaths lingering the exposed area of his neck.  
  
"I know you mean well, Jim." The lips were on Jim's ear shell. Bill whispered elaborately with the volume a little louder than the silence itself.  
  
"I know." Bill repeated.  
  
"But...I cannot let you do that. I really cannot throw the gifts from a good friend of mine away."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> Comments and kudos are welcome!


End file.
